THE AMERICAN
ing his chin. You've a very right feeling about it, but I'm glad you've begun with me." He paused, hesitated, and then turned away and walked slowly the length of the room. Newman got up and stood leaning against the chimney with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on his friend's evolution. This personage came back and stopped in front of him. "I give it up. I'll not pretend I'm not—well, impressed. I am—hugely! Ouf! It's a relief."
"That sort of news is always a surprise," said Newman. "No matter what you've done, people are never prepared. But if you're impressed I hope at least you're impressed favourably."
"Come!" the young man broke out; "I'm going to let you have it. I don't know whether it lays me flat or makes me soar."
"Well, if it corners you too much I'm afraid you've got to stay there, for I assure you I mean myself to fight out in the open."
"My dear man, Samson was in the open when he pulled down the temple, but there was n't much left of any one else." To which Valentin added: "You're perfectly serious?"
"Am I a futile Frenchman that I should n't be?" Newman asked. "But why is it, by the by—come to talk—that you are prostrated?"
The Count raised his hand to the back of his head and rubbed his hair quickly up and down, thrusting out the tip of his tongue as he did so. "Well, for instance you're not, as we call it, if I'm not mistaken, 'born.'"
"The devil I'm not!" Newman exclaimed.
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